


You won't know I'm gone

by AgentPatheticHasBeenRockstar



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:01:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28946334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentPatheticHasBeenRockstar/pseuds/AgentPatheticHasBeenRockstar
Summary: While battling frustration and trying to fix a battered X-Wing, you're surprised by Cassian. He's just back from a mission, and he apparently didn't forget his hobby: nagging you.
Relationships: Cassian Andor/Reader
Kudos: 7





	You won't know I'm gone

You’re exhausted, but you keep working on the exhaust pipes of the X-wing over you. You don’t particularly like those ships, but they have undeniable advantages. For example, they can jump in hyperspace without the external ring… the Delta 7 can only do so much. Sure, an X-Wing will never replace the memory of your flight in the Jedi ship, back in the Onderon skies… but Jedi are a thing of the past, and so are their ships.

You reach for the hydro-span, but your hand closes on air. You groan, annoyed. The new recruits keep taking stuff and forgetting to bring it back. You’re about to let out one of your legendary curses when someone talks to you, a thing very few people risk while you’re working.

“Please, don’t tell me you’re still trying to patch up that carcass.”

You know that voice. You’ve known it for years, and it invariably came with a teasing laughter, a strange tenderness, and a smile that made you feel both nervous and incredibly at ease.

Growing up in the Rebellion there are not many things to call home: no house to go back to at the end of the day, no friends, no real routine aside from the one that needs to be in place. Patching up ships, finding ammunitions, scanning planets and training, training, endless training. Sometimes patrolling.

One mistake could condemn a whole cell: hundreds or thousands of lives, relying on… people. The Resistance, the obstinate Rebellion… everything so noble, everything depending on how badly the other people believe in the great mission. It gets hard, after a while… and that’s why you were, and always will be, grateful for Cassian.

You jump down from the scaffold and lay your back against the metal structure, giving him a cheeky smile, waiting for him to get closer. You take advantage of the fact he has to walk through the hangar to make it to you, studying him.

His clothes are torn, his hair is messy, and he looks exhausted, but he walks straight. He doesn’t limp, he doesn’t drag his legs, and K2SO isn’t with him. All considered, you’re relieved. You start walking to him, and, as soon as he’s in your reach, you throw your arms around his neck.

“Welcome back, Cassian.”

He holds you back, laughing, “you didn’t really think I wouldn’t be back to complain about your works on my ship, right?”

“I’ll cross the six gates of the Void before you come back without complaining,” you rebuke, slapping his arm when you push him away, annoyed by his endless remarks about your job.

“I wouldn’t complain if you spent a bit more time screwing the right…”

“If you and that damn droid of yours didn’t tamper once I’m done, you wouldn’t have half the problems you have! You messed around the hyper-drive once again, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t mess around with anything! I didn’t even want to pick this topic, but since you did it, I gotta say it: you forgot to update the corridors on the navicomp.”

You freeze and lower the tone of your voice, worried “… please, tell me you didn’t fly through the new corridors to the Thand sector.”

“What else was I supposed to do?”

“Cassian, you… you kriffin idiot! Those are emergency corridors to transport prisoners and emergency supplies, not to travel for this kind of missions.”

He grabs your shoulders again, every pretense of playfulness gone from his eyes, “… what would you have done?”

“I’m not a pilot, but…”

“Exactly! You’re not a pilot. You decided to stay here instead of come back up there, so you have no right to tell me what to do.”

Before he can regret his words, you push his hands away from your shoulders, cursing through your teeth and walking away. That idiot. You were happy to see him, and he obviously had to ruin everything by being… well, being Cassian.

Without even minding to take back your tools, you walk away from the hangar, feeling angry and stupid. You were worried for him. You waited weeks to hear from him, but of course that didn’t mean anything to him. Of course the only thing that matters is the Rebellion, the damn Empire, the everything. Without ever stopping your string of curses you head for the inner halls of the ancient Temple.

The stairs are a nightmare, but it’s what you need right now. Since that whole Kyber crystals affair started, Cassian’s mood worsened. You know why, of course. The Empire is becoming even more brazen. What remains of the former Republic allies is scattering more and more, and there’s something going on. Of course there is, everyone knows it… but no one knows what.

The Emperor even made a few public appearances, sent a few messages on the holonet, that kind of thing. And people are scared, rightfully so. Stars, the rebels are scared. The battle of Lothal gave you something more to go by, but a planet and a single facility isn’t going to win the war. No matter how hard you all pretend it’s a great shot… it’s not. Their resources seem endless, while yours… let’s just say that you and your team are really trying to find out how many times you can fix a ship before that falls apart at the start.

There are nights when it doesn’t matter how many drinks or meds you have, you still can’t get to sleep. You still hear the engine roaring and whistling behind you, and the subtle crack right before the silence. That horrible, eerie silence. You had never truly heard how quiet space can be, and you surely hope you won’t hear it again. It was sheer luck that your astromech droid managed to send a distress signal and activate the emergency beacon before it broke down for good.

You remember the hours in your cabin, looking at the oxygen indicator dropping, praying, hoping, knowing that your survival chances lowered with each passing second. When you saw the reflection of the ship jumping out from hyperspace in the transparisteel, you had to keep yourself from screaming. You could swear you felt the cruiser scanning for life forms. When you felt the gentle pull of the tractor beam, you started crying.

They had to pull you out from the cabin because you couldn’t stand. You could just cry. You remember very little of those first few minutes, all confusing and comforting, incredibly loud, and your head spinning from all the oxygen, so much oxygen, mixed with the smells of the hangar. The grease, the fuel, the exhaust fumes, the arms and bodies of the people helping you, and then Cassian’s voice.

You had raised your stare, and he was there, smiling at you with glassy eyes, holding you and helping you to the medbay. He stayed by your side for two whole days, or whatever those were. Every time you opened your eyes, or jerked awake, he was there, shushing you and easing you back to sleep… and tonight he just had to call you out for that.

The Cassian you met when this war started would have never done that. He was unyielding, restless, a complete pain in the ass… but he was also kind, and understanding. Since he started the intelligence missions… things started to change. And tonight it was just clearer than ever.

Short of breath and with stiff legs, you heave yourself up through the ceiling opening and walk out on one of the balconies on top of the Temple. For a moment, it works perfectly. You look down and take in the jungle, with the occasional patches of faint light coming from the bioluminescent fungi and orchids growing there. You take a deep breath, trying to spot the ocean in the distance, but the fog lifting from the jungle is already obstructing the view. You raise your stare and look at the red glare of Yavin Prime in the sky, another moon orbiting further on the left, and then… the stars. So many stars, calling to you.

You and Cassian used to joke about the fact that, being born on a transport in hyperspace, you are not really from Onderon. In fact, you were born among the stars, and that’s where you belong. That’s what made you such a skilled pilot. Suddenly, you’re hit with a wave of nostalgia: for what, you are not sure. It’s not like you’ve ever known true peace… but at least there were better days. Days where the Empire seemed just another problem, not a shadow that would infect and destroy everything. Days when you could still laugh, have a break, enjoy some good time without feeling like you’re wasting resources that should be directed to the war. Just better days. You miss those, you miss Cassian, you miss all the people you used to fly and fight with, play Sabacc, fight over the games of Sabacc… people you could call family.

You’re so lost in your thoughts that you almost miss the dark-haired head popping up through the same opening you used to get outside. You huff in annoyance, knowing that there is no way for you to escape that conversation, unless you quite dramatically decide to walk back down or… well, even more dramatically, to fling yourself down the balcony, but that’d probably be overkill.

“What are you doing here, Cassian?”

He offers you a bottle of water and a meal pack, smiling. “You skipped your meal today. And I figured you’d be thirsty, after climbing all the way up here.”

“… fine, thanks.”

He sits next to you while you break the meal pack and then open it once it’s done heating up. You offer him some, but he shakes his head. “I’ve had some food before jumping out of hyperspace. You know how K2 gets sometimes.”

“That droid is what keeps you from starving, basically.”

“… yeah, sometimes,” he shrugs, agreeing with you, “I’m just not that good at keeping tracks of myself. And don’t start that thing about my body being a ship that needs fuel to work. We’re not kids anymore.”

You swallow a particularly stringy bit that seems to stick in your throat, glaring at him. “But you still act like one,” you finally fire back when you manage to speak again. He smiles at you, a sweet smile that brings back the wave of nostalgia in full swing.

“You’re right. Look… I’m sorry for what I said earlier. It was unfair. You do a lot for this fight… and it’s not my place to judge you. I am very sorry.”

You take a deep breath, nodding and looking again at the jungle at your feet, thoughtful. “You know why I don’t fly anymore.”

“… I do.”

“But you said that anyway.”

“… yes. It was very stupid of me.”

“… yeah, it was. And it was stupid to fly those corridors.”

He chuckles, knowing that you won’t miss the chance to throw your punches before granting him forgiveness, “… agreed.”

“… but you brought me food in the most secluded place of this base, so… we’re good. I know you love me, and who could blame you?”

“My crazy comet”, he calls you, using the nickname he always used instead of your call sign when you patrolled alone. You blush, and finally look at him. There he is. That’s the boy you grew up with, the man who helped you through that all, without ever losing his humanity.

He knows you’re joking, but when he takes your hand you both know that what you just said it’s true. He does love you. And he knows that his feelings are reciprocated.

You don’t think about anything when you lean on him and kiss him. He doesn’t pull back, push you away… he just runs a hand through your hair and returns the kiss. When you break away from him, you rest your forehead against his one.

“Maybe we… once this is done…” you trail off, not knowing what to tell him. How can you tell him you changed your mind? How can you explain to him how badly you miss him? Luckily, he just smiles at you.

“You know, I… I was thinking the same. We… we’re sacrificing so much, already. I don’t want to give up on this.”

“… then we won’t.”

Not even the time to say those words that his commlink starts to beep furiously, signaling an incoming holocall. He takes it, and you both immediately straighten your backs, seeing Mon Mothma herself.

After a few minutes, when the communication ends, Cassian kisses you again. “I’ll just… I’ll be back soon. I promise you. And we’ll… we’ll do this.”

“… of course we will,” you try to smile, despite having a bad feeling about the new mission, “you don’t think you can run to Scariff with the new cute rebel and leave me hanging, right?”

He laughs and kisses you again. “I’m going to be so quick, you won’t even know I’m gone.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading this! If you enjoyed my work, I hope you'll leave a kudos or a comment.
> 
> Please DO NOT REPOST MY WORK OR PART/S OF IT on any other platform.  
> You can also find me on Tumblr here www.tumblr.com/blog/walkingaline or do a quick search for walkingaline


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